


Rainbows Can Still be Gray || A Newsies Adoption Story

by loserGREEKwhatever



Category: Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: F/M, M/M, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-13 16:53:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29156889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loserGREEKwhatever/pseuds/loserGREEKwhatever
Summary: 9-year-old Calvin Feldman loves theater. His parents, on the other hand, do not, and they abuse him, so he doesn’t tell them that he does it. One day, Cal skips school and attends a non-equity audition for Newsies on Broadway, without his parents knowledge. He lands the part of Les Jacobs, and gets super close with the cast. What will happen when they find out what his parents do to him?
Kudos: 2





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1:

"Mom! I'm home!" I call out as I opens the door to the Feldman family's small New York City apartment.

"Where in the world were you, Calvin? Your father and I were worried sick!" My mother runs in and hugs me very tightly. I sigh, knowing that my father is far from worried. This won't end well, not at all.

"Remember that thing I told you I was doing after school?" Mom just looks at me, confused. "I... I was at an audition. For the school production." I mumble, reluctantly.

"Speak up, boy!" My father has entered the room, and doesn't look happy. I reluctantly repeats myself, louder this time.

"I was auditioning for the school musical." There is a change in my mother's face, almost as if a switch has flipped in her brain. Her eyes go from the shiny warm color of coffee to a matte shade or brown that could only be described by saying that it looks like tar.

"We told you specifically NOT to do that, because you'll get bullied for being a fag. Only fags do theater. You're not a fag. We raised you better than this. The gays are terrible people, and should not exist. Anyways, theater is just a waste of time. You're going to be a doctor or a lawyer, end of story. Use your free time to study." My father's voice is very cool and level, and with that, he turns on his heel and struts out the door, most likely to get a beer or some other alcohol. To me, that's scarier than him yelling. I gulp. Doing theater is bad enough, but if my parents, especially my father, ever found out that I was gay, I would be done for. They would kick me out, or maybe even kill me. My mother spoke, snapping me out of my inner dialogue.

"Please, Calvin. Listen to your father. We both know that will end better. Please? I only want you to be safe."

"Mom. I want to do theater. Maybe I can tell him that I quit the show, and continue it anyways?" My mom has always been understanding. She had comforted me when my father would beat me, and tuck me in at night, even during the toughest of times. My parents marriage had been a planned one, and they'd had no say in it. Mom sighs.

"I guess that might work. But Calvin?" She asks me.

"Yeah?"

"Please be careful. I can't bear the thought of losing another son." I nod, and hug Mom comfortingly.

Maybe two years ago, I had an older sibling, named Allie. When Allie came out as trans, and wanted to change his name to Ace, he was abused by their father for weeks, until finally, it was too much for his body to handle, and killed him. Mom was devastated, but couldn't show it. She also accepted Ace for who he was. If I ever came out, Mom would be the first to know.

"Of course, Mom. I love you."

"I love you too." She replied, kissing the top of my head, then leaving the room. I think for a second. I suddenly have an idea, and run to my room with my laptop. I quickly open an incognito tab and look up Newsies. That's my absolute favorite musical. I am looking for a bootleg, maybe learn a song or some choreography to let my mind off of my father, but the first thing that comes up is an audition notice. Intrigued, I click on the link.

Newsies

Broadway production - Open call  
A new musical based on the newsboy strike of 1899. Multiple roles available.  
Non-equity will be seen if time permits.

Good, there is a chance. I just have to get there super early. There's no way I can get an equity card. I scroll down until I find the part I am looking for. There it is.

Les Jacobs:   
Ages 7-10  
Davey's cheeky little brother, is inspired by the freedom of the newsies and loves their independent lifestyle. A precocious and natural newsie, Les is an intuitive salesboy and pint-sized charmer.

He should read as much younger than the rest of the newsies.  
Sings solo, many lines, featured dancer.  
Vocal range: Top Bb3 - Bottom Dd3

Perfect! I can do all of that! Except maybe the dancing. But I have done some of the Newsies choreography before. I can do that pretty easily. And Les doesn't have particularly difficult choreography. He mainly stands in the back with Crutchie during the dance breaks. The only problem is that the audition is Wednesday next week at 1:00 PM. During school. But Mom and my father don't need to know that I skip school. I do it all the time, anyways.

And so, I start thinking about a plan. I take the subway to school every day anyways, and the auditions are being held at Ripley-Grier Studios, 520 8th Ave, 16th Floor. That is thankfully near my school. I can walk from my stop. I have my school photo from this year, which is what I will use as a headshot, and I have an acting resume from when we needed to make them for a school project. Thankfully I keep mine updated, so I have a resume. Now, all I need to do is find a song to sing and a monologue to perform for the audition. For the song, I end up choosing Giants in the Sky from the musical Into the Woods, and for the monologue, I find one from You're a Good Man Charlie Brown that is called 'Crabby'. Now all I have to do is practice and wait.

"Calvin! Dinner!" I hear my Mom call from the kitchen, and I shut the tab and my laptop and go into the kitchen. As soon as I see my father's face, I know that I'm in trouble. It is bright red, and super angry.

"You're a fag. Why didn't you tell me? You're a slut, you fag." He slurs, obviously drunk. My heart drops. There's no way he knows I'm gay! I haven't told anyone! Except for Uncle Whizzer, but he's gay too. He understands that I can never tell my father. He has Uncle Marvin, who grew up in an extremely homophobic household. Uncle Marvin is my dad's brother, and isn't out to the family other than me. But there's no way Uncle Whizzer told. He knows how much this would hurt me. I try to play it cool.

"I asked you a question, you pansy!" My father barks at me, barely understandable. "Are you, or are you not, a homo?"

"I- I'm not, s- sir! I-I like girls, s- sir!" I am on the verge of tears, but I can't cry. If I do, he'll kill me. Most likely literally. He nods curtly, satisfied. I breathe a sigh of relief. Sadly, he sees that.

"Are you lying to me, boy?" I shake my head no. My drunk father starts screaming."YOU'RE LYING AGAIN!!! FAG!" With that, he gets up, grabs me by the ear, and drags me to my feet, pulling me to the stove. I mentally curse, and try to work out of his grasp. He is too strong. He turns on the burners on high, and presses my face to the flame. I scream. The burner is eating away at my face, and my hair is on fire. Literally, on fire. I black out, but the pain is still there. My mother screams something that I can't hear, and I feel something cold on me, which hurts even more as I hear my own skin sizzling. It burns, which isn't completely surprising because I was just set on fire. My father finally let's go of me, and I sink to my knees, and lose consciousness.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 9-year-old Calvin Feldman loves theater. His parents, on the other hand, do not, and they abuse him, so he doesn’t tell them that he does it. One day, Cal skips school and attends a non-equity audition for Newsies on Broadway, without his parents knowledge. He lands the part of Les Jacobs, and gets super close with the cast. What will happen when they find out what his parents do to him?

Chapter 2:

I wake up in my bed, with Mom by my side.

"Calvin! Oh, thank God you're alive! Oh, I love you so much!" Mom exclaims as soon as she sees my eyes open. I'm confused, and then I remember last night. I look at the mirror right next to my bed, and gasp. My hair is mostly gone, and the part that is still there is black instead of it's usual medium brown. The right side of my face is covered in burns, some of which are still oozing blood and pus. There are some bandages, but the burns are still visible. It is numb, which is weird because of how much pain I was in last night. Then it dawns on me that I probably damaged or killed some nerves. I groan. I look terrible. So much for not ever being noticed.

"Calvin, you've been asleep for the entire weekend. I was starting to think you would never wake up." Mom strokes my arm, and kisses my left cheek.

"I love you Mom. You probably saved my life. Thank you." I reply in a hoarse voice, already thinking about how to cover my burns with makeup for school. Speaking of which... "Wait- what day is it?" I ask Mom.

"Monday. It's 6 in the morning." I sigh in relief. I didn't miss the audition.

"I can still make it to school!" I jump up, and start pulling clothes out of my dresser. I settle on black jeans, and New York Jets t-shirt, and a white and green flannel, and tug on my worn converse.

"Woah, Calvin, slow down. You can't go to school! You almost died!" Mom pulls me back onto the bed.

"Mom, if I don't go to school, I'll be at home with my father all day. It's safer at school." I am lying through my teeth. It's no safer. Just last week, this 8th grade boy on the soccer team held a knife to my throat because I signed up for the musical auditions, and called me 'fag'. I am only still alive because Mr. Duvall, my favorite teacher, was right there, and he got suspended. I just need to get out of the house. 

Plus, the cast list for the school show, which is Into the Woods, comes out today, and, I need to ask the drama teacher if he can watch me do my monologue for Newsies, and give me some feedback.

Mom sighs, thinking about it.

"Fine, but do be careful. I love you."

"I love you too, Mom." I hug her, then rush to the bathroom.

I have a stash of foundation that is capable of covering scars and burns, that I got after the first time my father abused me. I shower, washing my charred hair and my face first to get off all of the blood and pus and icky stuff. I look somewhat presentable, but I still carefully apply the foundation, ignoring the numbness of my face.

I run to the kitchen, and thankfully, my father isn't there. I grab a granola bar, a bottle of gatorade and my water bottle, and take a wad of cash from the cabinet, enough for breakfast at Starbucks and a sandwich for lunch, and a little extra for some burn medicine that I'm going to pick up at CVS after school. I pull on a black beanie, making sure that it covers all of my hair. It's winter, and my school doesn't have heat, so no one will think twice about it. I tug on my too-small winter coat, grab my backpack, and head out the door.

I know it is early, but I have things to do. I take the subway to the public library, and take out the Newsies original Broadway cast recording. It came out a few months ago, and I have listened to it so many times. Mom gave me her old Walkman a few years ago, and I have a cheap pair of headphones from the neighborhood bodega. I insert the disc, put my headphones on, and press play. 

I go back to the subway, and get on the line that goes to my school. I'm going to see how far school is to the audition place. I get off at my stop, and walk towards where I saw the audition place was on the map of the city at the subway station. I find it. It's only a five minute walk from school, which means I'll just leave the station and go straight there. I have to be one of the first non-equity person in line. If not, I won't have a chance of getting seen. I walk back to school, and it's 7, so the doors are open. I put my stuff in my locker, and head straight to the drama room. I don't have drama this year, but starting in fourth grade you can audition for the musical, which Mr. Duvall (the drama and chorus teacher) runs. I was in fourth grade last year. I skipped second grade, so I'm a year younger than everyone else. My school is kindergarten through 12th grade, so I'll be here until college.

"Mr. Duvall?" I ask, knocking on the door. I hear him say 'come in', and I open the door.

"Hey, Cal! What can I do for you?" He asks me.

"Well, I'm going to audition for Newsies on Broadway on Wednesday." I tell him.

"What? Cal, that's amazing!" He exclaims. I kind of assumed that would be his reaction to me auditioning for a Broadway show. "Les, I assume?" He asks, and I nod.

"Yeah, well, I was wondering if you could listen to my monologue and song and tell me if you have any notes? I know you have things to do, but, uh..." Mr. Duvall laughs.

"Of course! What are you singing?" He asks me.

"Giants in the Sky. From Into the Woods." I inform him. "I'm also doing a monologue from You're a Good Man Charlie Brown. I also have two other songs prepared in case they ask to hear something else, Electricity from Billy Elliot, and All of Me by John Legend."

"Good. May I hear the monologue?" He asks. I nod.

"Okay." I take a deep breath. "I'm sorry to have to say this to your face, Lucy, but it's true. You're a very crabby person. Now, I know your crabbiness probably comes so naturally to you now that you're not even aware that you're being crabby, but it's true just the same. You're a VERY crabby person, and you're crabby to just about everyone you meet! Now, I- I hope you don't mind my saying this, Lucy, and I hope that you take it in the spirit that it's meant. I think that we should all be open to any opportunity to learn more about ourselves. I think Socrates was very right when he said that one of the first rules for anyone in life is to 'know thyself'! Well, uh, I guess I've, uh, said just about enough. I hope I haven't offended you or anything..." I finished the monologue, embarrassed that I had sucked. Mr. Duvall clapped.

"That was great! My only note is to slow down. You're going very fast, and that's partially because you were nervous, although you are going to be nervous Wednesday too. I suggest you record yourself performing it, and play it back to yourself." He tells me.

"Okay!" I reply, jotting it down on a post-it note.

"Could you do Giants in the Sky for me?" He asks.

"Yeah, okay." I pull out my phone, and turn on the karaoke track.

"There are giants in the sky!  
There are big, tall, terrible giants in the sky!

When you're way up high  
And you look below  
At the world you've left  
And the things you know  
Little more than a glance  
Is enough to show  
You just how small you are

When you're way up high  
And you're on your own  
In a world like none  
That you've ever known  
Where the sky is lead  
And the earth is stone  
You're free to do  
Whatever pleases you

Exploring things you'd never dare  
'Cause you don't care  
When suddenly there's  
A big, tall, terrible giant at the door  
A big, tall, terrible, lady giant sweepin' the floor

And she gives you food  
And she gives you rest  
And she draws you close  
To her giant breast  
And you know things now  
That you never knew before  
Not 'til the sky

Only just when you've made  
A friend and all  
And you know she's big  
But you don't feel small  
Someone bigger than her  
Comes along the hall  
To swallow you for lunch

And your heart is lead  
And your stomach stone  
And you're really scared  
Being all alone

And it's then that you miss  
All the things you've known  
And the world you've left  
And the little you own

The fun is done  
You steal what you can and run  
And you scramble down  
And you look below  
And the world you know  
Begins to grow

The roof, the house and your  
Mother at the door  
The roof, the house and the world you never thought to explore

And you think of all the things you've seen  
And you wish that you could live in between  
And you're back again  
Only different than before  
After the sky  
There are giants in the sky!  
There are big, tall, terrible, awesome, scary, wonderful giants,  
In the sky!" I hold out the last note. "I'm a terrible singer." I say once I'm finished, looking down.

"Cal, you're an amazing singer! Don't tell anyone, because the cast list isn't officially out yet, but you got Jack. And, you already have the big song down! I literally have no notes! That was amazing!" Mr. Duvall smiles, hugging me. "You're going to do great!"

"Thanks." I tell him. It feels great to hear someone compliment me.

"Hey, Cal, are you wearing makeup?" He asks me suddenly. Dang it. I shouldn't have hugged him. The foundation probably rubbed off on the black beanie.

"Uhhh..." I start. 

"Cal, there's no shame in wearing makeup." He runs his finger over my right cheek, and gasps. "What the-" He starts. I take off my beanie, and stare at the floor. "Cal! What happened?" I sigh. I can't lie my way out of this.

"My father. He was drunk last night, as always, and he called me a 'fag', and I denied it, but he didn't believe me, and he burnt me on the stove. I am actually gay, but NOBODY can know. I told my Uncle Whizzer, and I don't think he told, because he's also gay, and knows what my father does, but I'm not sure anymore, and I, I-" I burst into tears.

"Oh, kid! How can you live like this?" Mr. Duvall hugs me again. I pull away, and replace the beanie on my head.

"Easy." I stare him in the eye. "If I tell anyone, I won't live like anything anymore. He already killed my brother for being trans. That's why Ace no longer comes to school. He's dead. That's why I can't tell anyone." My teacher's face looks shocked, then that morphs into a face of hatred.

"He can't do that. He literally murdered his son for being trans. That's murder and a hate crime. That's illegal." He sits down, and starts dialing the front office on his office's phone.

"Mr. Duvall! Stop! He can't know that I told someone! Also, no one knows he murdered Ace. They think it was suicide, that he was depressed. My father made it so that people would feel bad for him instead of arresting him." I tell him, taking the phone out of his hands. He sighs.

"Cal, you can't keep living like this. You can't do-" I cut him off.

"I can, Mr. Duvall. I have been for the past three years." I tell him, gravely. "There's nothing anyone can do about it without me dying."

"I guess I can't help you if you won't let me. But promise me that if he does anything else you will tell me? Also, go to the nurse's office before the bell rings. Those burns are not just little scrapes. I can write you a pass. Good luck at your audition Wednesday. I assume you won't be in school." I nod, and he hands me a hall pass. I start to walk out, when he stops me. "Cal? Be careful."

"Okay." I answer, and walk to the nurse's office with my head down.

She doesn't do much, just gasps and tells me that it's bad and gives me an ice-pack and some prescription burn ointment. I only have the non-prescription cream, so this will probably help. I reapply my makeup in the single stall gender-neutral bathroom so that no boys can walk in on me putting on makeup and make fun of me. I adjust the beanie so there is none of my hair showing, and walk to class. I give the teacher the note Mr. Duvall gave me, take a desk in the back, turn on my Walkman, and zone out. I do that for most of the other classes until chorus. That's the period the cast list is posted, and I have Mr. Duvall that period, so everyone will be coming to the choir room. I have to see my name and act surprised, even though I already know my part. I'm also curious to see who the other parts are being played by. I don't really have any friends in the theater department, but I know all of the older kids from last year, and they were all super nice to me.

"Cal! You got Jack! Congratulations!" Annika, a 10th grader that I hung out with a lot at rehearsals last year, tells me. I grin widely, and exclaim.

"Wait, really?" She nods, and I continue my act. "Yes! Wait, who'd you get?"

"Cinderella!" She replies.

"Congratulations! You're going to be amazing!"

"Thanks!" She replies, then runs off, most likely to tell her friends. I feel envious that she has friends, but I'm used to being a loner. I sigh, and prepare to endure doing that with the rest of the cast.

Today has been exhausting. When I get home, it's already 5:30. I got lost on the subway, and got off at the wrong stop, right near the Nederlander theater, and spend an hour just gazing at the marquée, listening to the cast recording. When I finally get home, I eat a couple slices of cold pizza from last week, wash my face, and realize that the burns were looking a lot better than this morning. I shut myself in my room, glad I soundproofed it a couple years ago, and practice my songs, and my monologue. I take Mr. Duvall's advice and record myself, and work on being slower. I leave a note on the counter about my day, then I collapse into bed and fall asleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 9-year-old Calvin Feldman loves theater. His parents, on the other hand, do not, and they abuse him, so he doesn’t tell them that he does it. One day, Cal skips school and attends a non-equity audition for Newsies on Broadway, without his parents knowledge. He lands the part of Les Jacobs, and gets super close with the cast. What will happen when they find out what his parents do to him?

Chapter 3:

It's Tuesday, which means the audition is tomorrow. When I wake up, I warm up my voice, go over my songs and monologue, and then go on voice rest for the rest of the day so that it is well rested for tomorrow. I already have a note 'signed' by my parents (I actually forged their signature; I've gotten quite good at it over the years), and I will show it to all of my teachers to get out of talking. We have an oral quiz in Spanish today, so I'll get out of that.

I redo the entire makeup-beanie routine from yesterday, and am glad to see that the burn is looking a bit better. I put on some of the cream that the nurse gave me on, and sigh. What will I do for the audition tomorrow? The directing and casting team will surely notice; they work in a profession that people are required to wear makeup. I guess I'll cross that bridge when I come to it.

I grab a breakfast sandwich and iced tea at Starbucks, and a turkey wrap for lunch, and I walk to the subway station. I almost miss the train because I'm so wrapped up in my music to hear the announcement, but I make it just in time. I am extremely nervous for my audition tomorrow, and I'm not paying attention. 

At school, some of the teachers give me weird looks, but most don't question my vocal rest. I am extremely distracted, and am not really paying attention to the lessons. It helps that I'm not talking, so I can just tune out everything and listen to Newsies.

In chorus, Mr. Duvall tells everyone about my auditioning tomorrow, and why I'm not talking. I want to disappear, or just be anywhere else, anywhere but here. Everyone is looking at me, and it's quite discomforting. A lot of people whisper things like 'fag', and 'homo', and stuff like that as they pass me in the hallway, or my lunch table, where I sit alone every day. When the final bell rings, I am relieved. I rush out of school, and the subway is a blur.

When I get home, my father isn't there. I haven't seen him in a while, not since the incident with the stove. I'm glad that he hasn't hurt me, but it's kind of weird, as I am so used to the abuse.

I grab a bagel and head to my room. I pay on my bed, staring at my ceiling and reviewing my plan for tomorrow. When I'm satisfies with my preparations, I go to YouTube, and search up a Newsies bootleg that I've seen so many tunes, I'm surprised it hasn't been taken off yet due to legal reasons. It's decently shot, and has no understudies. Understudies are amazing , but a bootleg with the entire OBC is pure gold. When the video finishes, I go to bed. I know that it's early, but I need to get some rest. I have a big, possibly life changing day tomorrow. I quickly fall asleep, and drift into a peaceful, thankfully dreamless slumber.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 9-year-old Calvin Feldman loves theater. His parents, on the other hand, do not, and they abuse him, so he doesn’t tell them that he does it. One day, Cal skips school and attends a non-equity audition for Newsies on Broadway, without his parents knowledge. He lands the part of Les Jacobs, and gets super close with the cast. What will happen when they find out what his parents do to him?

Chapter 4:

It's Wednesday. Dang it. I have my audition today. As soon as I get out of bed, I look up what the best thing to eat before an audition is. It says no dairy and a balanced meal and stuff like that which I could have figured out on my own. I decide to make myself breakfast today, instead of stopping and getting something on my way to the subway. Neither of my parents are here, most likely still asleep, so I am okay to be in the kitchen without fearing for my life. I make myself two prices of toast, and spread Nutella on both of them. I haven't had Nutella in so long, and as soon as I open the jar, I sigh from the delicious chocolatey scent. I grab a banana, and make a cup of hot water. I don't own a steamer, nor can I afford one, but I can breathe in the steam from the water. I eat quickly, and go to my room to get ready. I am going to wear a long sleeved shirt, to hide my bruises, and I pick a teal one, to match my eyes, which are literally the color of the ocean in the Bahamas, complete with flecks of gold for sand. My parents both have dull brown eyes, but apparently the genetic whatever combined is why I have these things inside of my ocular cavities.

I pull on some black leggings that I took from Mom's closet; she's not that much bigger than me, so they fit fine, and a light gray zip-up hoodie. I bought a cheap pair of secondhand tap shoes off of eBay last year for the play, and I throw those into a backpack, along with some healthy snacks and a couple of bottles of water. I'm going to need to stay hydrated. I also bring a navy blue and gray hoodie, because I don't know what the temperature is going to be. When I finally feel ready, I leave the apartment, fiddling nervously with my necklace. I always wear this necklace. Ace gave it to me when I was maybe 5 years old. It's made of braided black leather chords, and has a gold Star of David hanging from it. It's the only reminder I have of my brother, other than memories.

I apply my makeup carefully, and put some of Mom's powder to cover my whole face, so it's far less obvious that I'm wearing makeup. If Mr. Duvall could tell that I was wearing makeup the other day, the casting people are sure to. I add a little mascara. I've always loved wearing makeup, it makes me feel like a diva, (well, more of a diva than I already am), and I have insanely long eyelashes, so it'll make my face more bearable to look at. I pull on the same beanie as the last two days at school, and make sure it covers my entire head. There is one strand or hair that is not burnt on my entire head, and I pull it out so that my head doesn't look like one belonging to a zombie or a burn victim or something. Dang it, that's what I am. A burn victim. I've been categorized as lot of things in the past, such as a physically abused, mentally abused, depressed, anxious, traumatized, suicidal, and many more, but never before burn victim. Guess I can add that to the list.

I remember that I have to go soon, and so I snap out of my inner rant. I take my school stuff out of my backpack, and put in my binder with the sheet music to my songs that Mr. Duvall was kind enough to print out for me yesterday, and my headshot and resume. I look around, making sure I don't forget anything. There isn't anything else, so I scribble a note on the counter that I might not be home for dinner, and not to worry, grab the money Mom left out for my breakfast and lunch, which I kind of feel bad about because I already ate breakfast, and we are kind of poor, but I shrug it off quickly, and I head out the door. It's still dark outside, but I don't mind. One of the perks of living in New York City is that there is always light coming from somewhere, even in the worst and poorest neighborhoods.

I walk quickly to the subway station, and don't miss my stop this time. I double check Google Maps, just to make sure i don't get lost, and start walking to the studio. On the way there, I hear someone yell 'HEY! KID!' I know I should leave it alone, but the person sounded like they were calling for help, so I run to where I heard the voice coming from. It's coming from a dark alley. I know what you're all thinking; 'No! Cal! Why the heck would you do that!' or 'Cal! Do you want to get yourself killed?' but I wasn't thinking clearly, I was exhausted, and frankly, dying wouldn't be the worst thing that could happen. Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you, I'm still suicidal. I hear the person yell again, and run into the alley. There is a person, probably a teenager from the looks of it, being pinned up against the building by a huge man with a gun. I gulp.

"Get away from them!" I say in my scariest, oldest sounding voice, my voice breaking from fear. Well, so much for resting my voice until I warm up. The man turns to me, a cruel smile on his face.

"Hey faggot." He taunts, "Fancy seeing you here!" My heart instantly sinks when I see his face. It's my father.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 9-year-old Calvin Feldman loves theater. His parents, on the other hand, do not, and they abuse him, so he doesn’t tell them that he does it. One day, Cal skips school and attends a non-equity audition for Newsies on Broadway, without his parents knowledge. He lands the part of Les Jacobs, and gets super close with the cast. What will happen when they find out what his parents do to him?

Chapter 5:

My heart instantly sinks. It's my father.

He releases the teenager from the wall, and I finally get a glimpse of their face. It's a boy with dark blonde hair and clear blue eyes, probably like 17 or something, with huge muscles sticking out of a tank top and dimples that show whenever his mouth moves. He's very cute... No! Cal! He's too old for you! You're 9, you're too young to date! But those eyes... But he's probably straight anyway. I lose my train of thought, and then meet my fathers eyes and remember what's going on.

"H-hello father." I reply, my voice low and level. The boy gets up painfully, blood dripping from a deep looking cut on his forehead, and stares at me with pity. I ignore him. I've never stood up to my father before, and I want to see if I have the guts to follow through with it.

"Calvin." He stares me down. The reason I go by Cal is because of him. Because that's what he calls me. "Why are you not at school, fag, failing miserably to fill that tiny brain of yours with information you're too dumb to understand?" He asks mockingly, hatred dripping in his tone.

"Why are you not at home, making Mom get you beers and clean up your messes and have sex with you?" I shoot back, almost instantly regretting it. A vein pops out in his neck, and I have to fight my better instincts to hold my ground. The boy walks up to my father, and looks up at him, terror in his eyes, but hatred written clearly all over his features.

"Leave. Him. Alone!" He yells, and punches my father in the face. That just makes him madder.

"Uh oh." I mutter, "Run!" I scream at the boy, who is just standing there, shocked, staring at his hand like he didn't believe what he just did. He snaps out of his daze, grabs my hand, and we run for our lives. Surprisingly, my father doesn't follow us. We reach a building, and stop, plopping down on a bench and panting. I am glad I didn't cry, as my makeup isn't waterproof.

"Well- that just happened." The boy turns to me. I just nod grimly. "I'm Ben, by the way, Ben Cook." (A/N: before you all start yelling at me that Ben Cook wasn't in Newsies on Broadway, just the tour and the broadcast, I'm pretending he was because I need him for the story, okay? Great.) I nod again, and stare at my shoes.

"I'm Cal." I introduce myself. "I'm sorry about my father." I tell him, fidgeting nervously with the strap of my backpack. The boy, sorry, Ben, puts his hand on my shoulder, I instinctively flinch, but relax when I remember it's Ben and not him. 

"Hey, hey, it's fine." I just nod again, tears threatening to fall at any second. I quickly blink them away, and look at him. "Are you okay?" He asks me, in a worried voice.

"Are you okay?" I ask him to avoid his question, gesturing to the giant gash on his forehead. He sighs.

"I'm fine. I'll clean it up later. But don't avoid my question. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine." I say quickly. Too quickly. He looks at me, not believing any of it. I sigh. "I-I'm sorry for bothering you, and it was nice to meet you, but I have somewhere to be." I get up.

"Where, school?" He asks. It's an innocent question, I know that, but I tense up anyways.

"Uh, no, I uh, I'm auditioning for a musical." I tell him, looking around for the first time, to see how far I am from the studio where the auditions are. I sigh in relief, as we are literally outside the building right now.

"Wait really? No way! Newsies, right?" I look at Ben in surprise.

"Uh, yeah, how'd you know?" I ask him, confused.

"I am too!" He grins, his dimples showing. My mouth slowly fades into a small smile. "Awww, there's that smile." He teases.

"Okay Mom." I tease back. "But in all seriousness, I'm non-equity, and they're only seeing us if there's time, so I really have to go." He nods in understanding.

"My Broadway debut was a couple years ago, I remember non-equity auditions. Go get 'em, Cal. You'll do great!" He tells me. "Break a leg!" I grin and wave at him as I run into the building. I find the hallway where everyone is, and it's full of people, and lots of hot young men, (sorry, getting off track again), but I don't see any other kids that might be up for Les, which makes me happy because I'm not up against anyone for time to audition. I give my headshot and my resume to the man at the door, and find an empty spot in the corner to start warming up.

A woman comes out, and looks around. When she sees that I'm the only kid here, she comes over.

"Hey..."

"Cal. Cal Feldman." I fill in for her. She nods.

"Yes, Cal, well it looks like you're the only non-equity kid up for Les, which is really surprising, but we would usually have the dance portion of the audition with multiple people dancing at once, just so we can see how well they work with others. Unfortunately, all of the Les candidates a were here yesterday, so after your audition, we will have you dance with the Race candidates, and they'll be the equity members, and most likely a higher dance level than you, but just do the best you can, okay?" My breath quickens. Dancing with kids who know how is one thing, but dancing with adults is a whole other level. There's no way I'll be able to keep up. I start to hyperventilate.

"O-okay." I manage. She gives me a curt nod, and walks back into the audition room. I can barely breathe, and there are a million thoughts running through my mind, all of them negative about myself. Maybe my father was right. Maybe I am just a worthless kid. I sink to the floor. I need to not cry, but tears are already welling up in my eyes. I quickly wipe them away, but not before someone notices.

"Hey, kid, are you okay?" Some guy walks over and sits next to me. I can't see his face through my tears, which while not leaving my eyes, are obscuring my vision. I'm still in the midst of my panic attack.

"I- Uh- Y-yeah. I'm- I'm fine." I stutter, my voice breaking. I mentally curse.

"You sure? You don't seem okay. You look like you're having a panic attack." He states.

"No shit, Sherlock." I retort, and he laughs. He's becoming annoying. Then I realize that I just swore in front of another person. "Oh, dang it! I'm sorry! I-I am having a panic attack. Nothing out of the ordinary though." I chuckle dryly, but end up choking because I can't breathe. The choking turns into a coughing fit, and soon everyone in the hallway is looking at me. The guy hands me my water bottle, and tries to comfort me. I gulp the water gratefully, and he rubs my back. I slowly calm down, and lean against the wall.

"You okay, kid?" He asks me after a minute.

"Y-yeah. I- thanks." I stammer. "S-Sorry."

"Don't apologize! I'm glad you're okay." He tells me, and I blush. I'm not used to people caring about me. My eyes are no longer full of tears, and I can see his face. It's Ben!

"W-wow, twice in one day." I say, and start to laugh, and this time I don't start dying. Ben laughs too, and then asks me what's wrong. I gulp.

"Well, uh, the lady just told me that since I'm the only non-equity Les candidate, and the other Les's have already auditioned, I'm going to have to do the dance call with the Race candidates, and I don't really have any dance training, and I was already nervous about the dance call, but now I'm going to be with adults, and I don't know what to do!" I say in one breath.

"Woah, kid, slow down! You're gonna do great! I know I only just met you, but what you did with your dad back there, that took guts. You have the strength to do this. Don't let thoughts get in the way, just become your character! Do you want to warm up for the dance with me? I'm actually up for Race." I nod, relieved.

"I- I have some band-aids in my bag. D-Do you want one for your head?" I ask him, concerned.

"Sure. I should probably clean it up though." I nod at his answer, grab the band-aid, and stand up, motioning him to follow me. We head to the bathroom, and I grab a couple paper towels. Luckily, they are the soft ones, so it won't hurt Ben as much. I wet one and put some soap on it, squeezing it out over the sink like a sponge. I motion for him to bend down, and I start cleaning the cut. I've gotten quite good at cleaning wounds in the last couple years, and I've done a lot of things, such as given myself stitches, or removed shards of glass from inside myself, so cleaning this cut is nothing. When I'm finished, I dry it, criss-cross two band-aids over it, and step back to admire my handiwork.

Ben stands up and looks in the mirror.

"Cal, thanks. Where did you learn to do that?" He asks me. Shoot. I don't really have an answer to that,

"I- uh- I learned a while ago. I- my mom, uh, sliced her finger, and couldn't clean it herself, so, uh, I had to learn how." I sign in relief that I was able to fabricate a story that sounded believable. That was believable, right? Ben nods when I finish, and I think he believes me. That's good. I feel bad to lie, but I can't tell him the truth. We leave the bathroom silently, getting some odd looks from the good looking young men, but we just walk by, not caring. When we get back to my spot in the corner away from everyone, we stop.

"Wanna start warming up?" He asks me. I nod.

"I'm terrible though." I warn him, and he laughs.

"You'll be fine." He assures me. Then he drops into a low lunge, and starts stretching. I follow along with him. I've never done most of these things before, like straddles or oversplits, but to my great surprise, I'm pretty flexible. It's probably because of the ways my father has hurt me, sometimes grabbing my legs and spreading them far apart, to try and hurt me. It's just been stretching me this whole time! Ben seems unsurprised that I have all of the splits, but I am incredibly surprised.

"I can't believe that I actually have all of my splits! I've never done them before." I marvel to Ben, grinning while we're doing the left split. He looks at me in surprise.

"You've never done splits before? Wow, it took me years to get my splits. You are really flexible!" He exclaims.

"Thanks." I say sheepishly. We soon finish stretching, and we start warming up our voices. We do some tongue twisters, but Ben's face is so serious, and he's saying 'you know you need unique New York, unique New York needs you'd and he messes up so badly by saying something like 'you know uneee uneee oonor ooneee oonor...' or something like that, and we both just crack up. People are looking at us weirdly again, but I don't mind.

Then, that same lady from before comes out from the audition room and walks over to us.

"Cal? You're up." She tells me. I draw in a shaky breath, and start to get dizzy. I was fine a second ago! What happened? Ben hugs me.

"Hey, Cal? Can you hear me?" He asks softly while rubbing my back. I nod, starting to hyperventilate. "Okay, you're gonna be okay, yeah? Okay, um, I need you to name five things you can see."

"Uhhh, you, t-the lady, um, the floor, my hands, a-and the wall." I manage, trying my best to hold back tears.

"Okay, that was really good! Now four things you can feel?"

"You, uh, the floor, my backpack, and, uh, I-I don't know!" I can barely breathe.

"Hey, that's okay! You're doing great! Now name three things you can hear."

"Uh, your voice, pe-people warming up f-for singing, um, the ringing i-in my ears." My vision is blurry from tears, but I can't let them fall.

"Great job, Cal! Now, two things you can smell?" This one's easier.

"Uh, c-coffee and sweat?" I'm calming down, finally.

"Yeah!" Ben laughs at that one. "Okay, last one. Tell me one thing you can taste."

"Uh, blood from biting my lip so hard." I sigh, able to breathe again, and hug him tighter.

"Okay...?" Ben says, unsure of what to say to the last one, but still squeezing me back. "That was great! Are you feeling any better?" I nod, surprisingly okay again.

"Y-Yeah. T-Thanks Ben." I tell him.

"Of course! You saved me from your dad, it was the least I could do. Now, you ready to crush that audition?"

"Yeah." I say, kind of reluctantly.

"Go get 'em kid!" We get up, and I grab my binder and head into the audition room with the lady, who has been standing there the whole time, unsure of what to do.

"So, uh, are you okay?" The lady asks, finding her voice finally.

"Uh, yeah. Just a panic attack. I get them a lot, but I usually just wait for them to end. I've never had help with one before. I'm glad Ben was there." I tell her.

"Well, Ben seems very kind to help you with this." She says. I nod, and we walk into the audition room.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 9-year-old Calvin Feldman loves theater. His parents, on the other hand, do not, and they abuse him, so he doesn’t tell them that he does it. One day, Cal skips school and attends a non-equity audition for Newsies on Broadway, without his parents knowledge. He lands the part of Les Jacobs, and gets super close with the cast. What will happen when they find out what his parents do to him?

Chapter 6:

We walk into the audition room. There are seven people sitting behind a table in front of a mirror, a lot of them pretty old looking.

"Hey kid!" One of them, a white-haired man with a very gravelly voice, greets me. I wave shyly.

"Hello." I start nervously. "I'm Cal, well, uh, Calvin, Feldman, but I go by Cal, I'm nine years old, I am in the 5th grade, and I love to wear makeup." The people behind the table nod, and one of them grins at me, but I am internally screaming at myself. Why did I say that? Now they're going to realize that I'm wearing makeup now, and then they'll notice my burns. I know that I was supposed to say something about myself, to let them know more about me, but why did I choose that? I take a deep breath, and continue, still nervous. "Today I will be auditioning for the part of Les Jacobs, and I will be singing Giants in the Sky from Into the Woods, and performing a monologue called 'Crabby', from You're a Good Man Charlie Brown." 

They nod, and jot some things down on pads of paper in front of them. I haven't even started. Why are they already taking notes?

"Whenever you're ready." A friendly looking man with dark, swoopy hair and a kind smile tells me. It's the same guy that smiled when I said I like to wear makeup. I hand my binder to the pianist, who is the same lady that talked to me in the hallway, and I flip to the page that my song is on. I take a deep breath, nod to her, and she begins playing.

"There are giants in the sky!

There are big, tall, terrible giants in the sky!

When you're way up high  
And you look below  
At the world you've left  
And the things you know  
Little more than a glance  
Is enough to show  
You just how small you are

When you're way up high  
And you're on your own  
In a world like none  
That you've ever known  
Where the sky is lead  
And the earth is stone  
You're free to do  
Whatever pleases you

Exploring things you'd never dare  
'Cause you don't care  
When suddenly there's  
A big, tall, terrible giant at the door  
A big, tall, terrible, lady giant sweepin' the floor

And she gives you food  
And she gives you rest  
And she draws you close  
To her giant breast  
And you know things now  
That you never knew before  
Not 'til the sky

Only just when you've made  
A friend and all  
And you know she's big  
But you don't feel small  
Someone bigger than her  
Comes along the hall  
To swallow you for lunch

And your heart is lead  
And your stomach stone  
And you're really scared  
Being all alone

And it's then that you miss  
All the things you've known  
And the world you've left  
And the little you own

The fun is done  
You steal what you can and run  
And you scramble down  
And you look below  
And the world you know  
Begins to grow

The roof, the house and your  
Mother at the door  
The roof, the house and the world you never thought to explore

And you think of all the things you've seen  
And you wish that you could live in between  
And you're back again  
Only different than before  
After the sky  
There are giants in the sky!  
There are big, tall, terrible, awesome, scary, wonderful giants,  
In the sky!" I hold out the last note, just like I did with Mr. Duvall. My voice did crack once, in one of the last verses, but it was barely noticeable, and I didn't bring attention to it.

"That was great, Cal. Now your monologue?" I nod, and begin.

"I'm sorry to have to say this to your face, Lucy, but it's true. You're a very crabby person. Now, I know that your crabbiness probably comes so naturally to you now that you're not even aware of when you're being crabby, but it's true just the same. You're a VERY crabby person, and you're crabby to just about everyone you meet!" I pause, taking a deep breath, and pretending to think. "Now, I- I hope you don't mind my saying this, Lucy, and I hope you take it in the spirit that it's meant. I think that we should all be open to any opportunity to learn more about ourselves." I switch to a know-it-all's braggy voice. "I think that Socrates was very right when he said that one of the first rules for anyone in life is to 'know thyself'!" I pretend to think again, and to have a realization, and get embarrassed. "Well, uh, I guess that I've said just about enough. I hope I haven't offended you or anything..." I finish the monologue, and hang my head for a beat, focusing on my breathing. I am close to a panic attack, again, but I need to calm myself. I repeat Ben's 5-4-3-2-1 thing in my head, and then I look up. The people are staring at me, concerned. The nice-looking guy from earlier is the first to speak up.

"Are you okay, kid?" He asks me kindly.

"I-I'm fine." I say quickly, not wanting any more attention. "S-Sorry. I'm just nervous." I chuckle nervously. The man nods, but clearly doesn't believe me, and jots something down on his sheet of paper, causing my anxiety to worsen.

"Well, you did a great job, so you can just wait in the hall until we're ready for the Race dance audition, yeah?" Another man at the table tells me. I nod, and speed walk out the door back to my bag, running into another man because of my speed. I fall, and my hat almost falls off, but it thankfully doesn't, I catch it just in time. It does slip a little, but I don't think the man sees my hair.

"Oh! S-Sorry! I-I didn't mean to-" I stammer as he helps me up. "Th-Thanks."

"It's fine! Are you okay?" He looks concerned.

"Y-Yeah, I'm fine." I mumble, desperate to get back to the dark corner where my stuff is.

"Hey, I heard you in there. You did amazing." He tells me.

"I- Uh- Thanks." I reply.

(A/N: Okay, so I'm going to switch up a lot of the cast. Ben Cook is going to be on Broadway, and a lot of other people are going to be late in the audition process instead of having originated the roles. Please bear with me. Thanks!)

"I'm Mike." He introduces himself.

"C-Cal." I am getting uncomfortable in this situation. It's awkward.

"Well, Cal, good job, and good luck." He says, patting me on the back. I flinch at his touch, and he gives me a weird look, but shakes it off, hopefully forgetting about it.

"Y-You too." I reply, and we go our separate ways. I walk back to Ben, and plop myself on the ground. "Well that was nerve wracking." I sigh. He chuckles.

"I'm sure you did great. Now, I have my audition in a few minutes, so I'm going to warm up a bit more, and then when I come back we can get ready for the dance call, 'kay?" He asks. I nod.

"Yeah. Break a leg!" I encourage him, and he walks to the bathroom, because it has the best acoustics. I eat a granola bar, and check the time. It's almost eleven. I sigh, and plug my headphones in, turning up the volume to drown out the noises around me.


End file.
